


Birthday

by complexmotives (orphan_account)



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Light Angst, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 01:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3792256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/complexmotives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Lucina's birthday, but nobody seems to have noticed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> (Crosspost from imaginefeawakening.tumblr.com! Yes, I am the original author.)  
> It's sort of gender neutral, so if you choose you can imagine "you" as male, female, both or neither.

She doesn’t want to tell you that it’s her birthday. _In fact_ , she thinks, _it might be better if Robin didn’t ever realise at all_. She’d hate to impose on you, and besides, she’s used to not having birthdays. She never did, in the future; not past age ten, anyway, and definitely not once the war had begun.

She is, however, a girl like any other, and she does want to be pampered. Just a bit. To be showered with affection and kisses, to be read poetry to in low candlelight. But these are all stupid things, pipe dreams. As long as Grima is still around, it’s too much to hope for. And anyway, you probably don’t even know her birthday. She’s never told you, not that she can remember.

What are birthdays, anyway? Just another milestone, another year alive in a hopeless world. A fatalistic viewpoint, yes, but a pragmatic one. She swallows, steadies herself. She’s happy enough just spending every day with you.

And yet, something in her snaps when she sees her parents cooing over her. No, not her - little Lucina, angelic baby Lucina, a child who’s never tasted the iron of the blood in the air. Her lips twist, her serene demeanour broken, and then a hot, angry flush rises to her face. She doesn’t expect anybody to come after her. She looks petty, childish, she’s sure; there’s no reason for anyone to have the tiniest bit of empathy for her. _Foolish. Weak._

But you do.

You come after her, calling her name, searching for her, the love of your life. You’d seen her storm out of the war room, face mottled red and pink, ugly bright colours that didn’t suit her face. Chrom needed you to see him to discuss the next skirmish. But you’d dropped everything; cast the maps aside to find her. When she hurts, you hurt too.

You find her huddled in a corner of her tent, sitting on her bedroll, face in her knees. You hear the quiet, uncontrollable sniffing, and your heart goes out to her. “Lucina,” you say. Your voice is tailored to her mood. Soft and low. But she doesn’t respond.

You sit beside her, leaning your head on the wall behind the two of you. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, do you hear me?”

She lifts her face, scrunched up with tears. “I’m fine.” She’s obviously not. “I just need to be alone. Ten minutes. I’ll meet you in the war room, and - “

“Oh, but that’s too late,” you say gently. With a finger, you brush aside a tear. “You’re going to miss the party.”

Her eyes widen. She’s sure she misheard you. Or maybe you’re talking about baby Lucina’s birthday party. Yes, that’s right. “I’m sure it will be fine even if I - "

Then her eyes widen even further. A gasp of shock escapes her lips as you sweep her off her feet, scooping her up so one arm props up her upper back and the other is hooked around in the crook of her knees, carrying her like the princess she is and deserves to feel like. Not a doomed princess, but a blessed one. “Robin!”

“Hush now,” you say jovially, “and no more tears, love. We’re going to the party whether you like it or not.”

Of course, she’s more than capable of breaking out of your grip, but she doesn’t. She relaxes against your chest, evidently soothed by the beat of your heart, slow and rhythmic. When you reach the tent you slide her gently out of your hold, letting her land lightly on her feet. And she’s uncertain, of course. Does she want to see everyone gathered around the Lucina that isn’t her, happiness in their eyes?

But she steels herself, regaining her confidence - or most of it anyway - when you take her hand. Your own hand is large, warm, enveloping her small cold one.

As soon as the two of you enter, you’re covered in little bits of pretty paper - confetti. There’s a roar of delight, welcoming, and Chrom’s voice - “Lucina! Robin, you found her!”

“And to think we worried you might not be able to,” Sumia says fondly. Then she addresses Lucina, her entire face softening. “Happy birthday, love,” Chrom chimes in.

Lucina stares at her parents with their warm, affectionate faces, eyes filled with just as much love as when they look at their children. And she sees your eyes next, and in them there is twice as much. Her heart swells. You bend, kiss her on the cheek. “Happy birthday,” you murmur, and there’s a sincerity in it so deep she knows she can let herself get lost in it. “Now, mind telling me what upset you earlier?”

She collapses against your chest, arms around you, tears returning. “No,” she says, and smiles.

“There’s nothing. Nothing to be upset about at all.”


End file.
